Keep Looking
by LEXIALEXIA
Summary: Nothing prepared the Avengers for what they would find in Alaska. A young girl with mysterious abilities is forced into their lives and they are brought on the adventure of a lifetime. Can the Avengers protect her from fading into the shadows of her past? Will the girl be able to find what she's looking for, or will her past catch up with her? [Natasha centric]
1. Prologue

Prologue

It's late. The streets of the small Alaskan town are dark from the lack of street lamps and the thick layer of snow that is falling from the sky. A young girl walks lonesomely through the storm. Cold air swirls around her as she continues down the street, tiny pellets of snow burn her skin as they scrape her nose and cheeks. The wind pierces through the holes in her mittens and her oversized tattered coat causing her to shiver.

She reaches to untuck her hood from where it was caught on her backpack. She pulls it over her head and tightly holds it in place as she trudges through the challenging weather. The slush from the frozen sidewalks soaks through the worn soles of her shoes; she can no longer feel her toes. She is in no hurry, though. She is never in a hurry these days.

With the town now behind her, she picks up her pace. An old abandoned fishing shack is all she can make out in the distance. She pushes despite the blizzard. On a normal, calm night, the starlit sky would guide her home, or at least to the rundown cabin she has been inhabiting for the past month. Right now, her squinting eyes she can barely see a few feet ahead of her.

When she finally reaches the cabin, she pushes the door open and kicks off her soaking wet boots, before hanging her bag on a metal hook. She pulls her dark hair in a high ponytail and unzips her bag. She then pulls wax candles and a box of wooden matches out of the front pocket of her bag.

The young girl lights the candles, the new-found light allows her to see around the small building. It is only one room, with a boarded up window, a wooden chair and a metal pail to her left, a small wood stove to her right and a cot against the wall opposite to her. It isn't much, but she can't complain. It is better than where she used to be.

She wraps an old quilt around her shoulders and places the candle atop the wood stove. She grabs a few pieces of kindling and begins to light a fire to help warm her up. She doesn't have much to do most nights, but lighting a fire is something she finds enjoyable in a strange way. Almost like how somebody would enjoy a regular hobby.

Now that her nightly routine is finished, she sits down on the floor in front of the fire and watches as the flames dance across the wood. She continues sitting, occasionally adding logs to the fire until she can no longer keep herself awake. She knows how cold it can get if she lets the fire burn out.

Eventually, exhaustion gets the better of her and she falls asleep in a ball in front of the flaming stove.

The next morning, she wakes up shivering, to the sound of wind whistling through the cracks of the window boards. The fire has gone out hours ago judging by the flickering embers, and the cold is crawling up through the floor beneath her.

She notices an unusual tightness in her chest and her mind racing. For a moment she lets her anxiety set in but she is quick to bush off her worries.

It is barely 6 a.m., yet it is time to start her day.

She walks over to the pail to use the washroom then wanders over to her bag, pulling out a plastic, liter-sized, bottle of water. She brushes her hair and teeth, spits in the pail, and then she puts her jacket and boots on to go empty the pail outside.

She does her best with the limited survival skills her has. The average 14-year-old would be going to school and hanging out with their friends but instead she is struggling to stay alive. She has been trained to be a weapon; they pushed to her limits to prepare her to fight but she had no idea how to actually survive on her own.

Now it is time to make her way back in to town to collect food and warm up. She spends her day in the local public library to keep warm, with the added bonus that it gave her something to do. No one ever notices her there. The librarian is an old, almost blind woman, and the kids her age aren't interested in spending their free time with their noses buried in books.

Soon, someone might start asking questions, but for now, she feels safe. That is what matters.

She heads to the local convenience store, preparing to steal her next meal. It has been days since she has last eaten and it is getting difficult to keep up her energy. Usually, she would pick pockets to pay for a snack or wander to one of the surrounding towns to avoid suspicion, but today is different. Today she doesn't feel like herself.

She can't focus.

Her eyes flicker down the empty aisle before she shoves cans of vegetable soup and corn into her large jacket pockets. She takes as many as she can fit. Now satisfied with her haul, she pulls her hood up and walks out of the store with her head down, hands in her pockets.

She is distracted, lost in the thoughts of finally being able to eat that she doesn't notice the store owner's teenage son watching her. He runs out the door after her with his father close behind.

"Stop, you need to pay for that!" the boy yells and he begins chasing her down the street.

She doesn't listen. Instead, she quickens her pace. She knows that stealing is wrong but she doesn't feel guilty. She needs to find food somehow after all.

She runs as fast as she can, knowing she will be fine but it feels good to feel a little pressure.

The chase is exhilarating, this is the most eventful experience she has had in over a month but she is shaking with fear. She is overcome with anxiety once again which only makes her run faster; she is not used to being perturbed. Something was wrong.

Every once and awhile, she makes a mistake due to lack of sleep or lack of attention. She is special and her abilities give her the power to escape these kinds of situations, unfortunately, she has trouble controlling them when she is stressed. She doesn't know how many more times she will be able to get away with these sorts of things.

By now, other people have emerged from their homes and stores, including the Sheriff and his deputy.

The Sheriff yells something but she can't hear over her laboured breathing. Any sounds is being absorbed by the blood rushing to her ears.

A Sheriff car abruptly pulls out in front the her and two deputies step out. They shout for her to stop but she doesn't care.

Then she hears it. The sound of someone pumping the slide backwards on a shotgun.

She stops.

That sound brings her back to her childhood, back when she didn't need to fight to stay alive. Back when she could play with her siblings in the field by their house and when she could help her mother and father with housework. Everything changed when she heard that noise

As if a switch had just been flipped, her eyes turn dark and she is ready to fight her way out. She turns and lifts her hands up in front of her.

"Don't move," someone says, but she doesn't register the words. "We won't hurt you."

The world becomes silent and dark around her.

She lifts her hand when another shotgun clicks. A bright white light erupted from where she is standing. The ground splits and chunks of asphalt are ripped from the road, the energy sends everyone flying backwards onto the snowbanks.

The boy from the store is hiding behind the edge of a building, startled by the flashing light. The dust settles and he is shocked by the sight before him: a large pit now sits trenched where the girl had been standing. Bodies lay scattered around the hole, some people are stirring and others try to get back to their feet.

He looks around in fear, but the girl is gone.

Another deputy comes running out of the Sheriff station after the flash. He is holding a gun out in front of him, hands shaking as he scans the street for the mysterious figure in the brown coat. His heart is racing, and he swallows hard as a lump forms in his throat.

Before he can register what is happening, the gun is ripped from his hold. It floats before him as if it was being levitated. He is both scared and mesmerized by the illusion.

Then, the butt of his shotgun smokes his face. He tries to swing back but before he can, the gun goes off.

Bang.

He clutches his gut and falls to the ground, blood gushing from his abdomen.

Another shot goes off and the young boy from the store takes his final breath. A bullet pierces through his skull and he is dead before he hit the ground.

A high-pitched scream echoes through the street and the gun hits the ground as a trail of footprints appear, swiftly moving away from the crime scene.

* * *

Thank you for giving my flick a read. I just wanted to thank o0aurora0o for all their is my first Avengers story so please let me know what you think. Next chapter will be posted on Sunday, October 28th, Most Avengers Character will appear so stay tuned for the next chapter! This is also my first time creating my own character so tell me what you of them! I'm really excited about this story. I hope that you enjoy ready it just as much as I enjoyed writing it.


	2. Chapter 1

**Thank you to everyone that followed, favourited and/or reviewed the prologue! I really appracite the feedback. Here is where the Avengers come into the story so I just wanted to say that I do not own any of the Marvel characters and that I am thankful for my beta o0aurora0o. I'm very excited about this story and I hope that you enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I promise to update soon!**

* * *

Chapter 1

The Quinjet is 30 miles outside of Cordova, Alaska. It is a small fishing town, located on a bay in the southern part of the state. It was once a picturesque tourist attraction, but had become overrun in a matter of hours by an invisible, unknown creature the locals are calling the Ajih. The incidences started with break-ins and small robberies but had now escalated to a full-fledged attack on the town's civilians and sheriff department.

The Avengers had been asked to intervene when the most recent events had taken place, leaving many injured.

Only a handful of them had been sent to Alaska. Tony, Clint and Natasha had volunteered to tag along when the case was brought to them and Steve asked Bruce to come if they needed the big guy. It felt like they were getting the band back together with 5 of the 6 original Avengers piled into the Quinjet.

* * *

"What does Ajih mean?" asks Steve, looking up from his tablet to gaze out the window at the mountains below. The Alaskan snow is beautiful from above, but it reminds him too much of the war, how he had plunged into the ice after losing his best friend.

Steve shakes away his thoughts and turns to his team.

"Demon or ghost," Bruce Banner say, speaking up. He is a well-knowledged man who know the answer to almost every question directed at him, except for why they brought him along on this mission. He refuses to let the big guy out after what had happened in Sokovia, so he doesn't know why he is part of the operation.

Tony is pacing around the cabin with a packet of blueberries in hand. "That's delightful. Why couldn't they call it something cuter and not-deadly, like fluffy?" he mutters sarcastically before tossing back a handful of berries.

"Because something named fluffy wouldn't hurt this many people," Clint points out from the pilot's seat, flipping through pictures of the casualties. None of them know what they were about to walk into. They survived the attack on New York City and Ultron, so surely they will be able to defeat this beast.

"I've met some pretty vicious cats named fluffy," Tony says, and tosses a berry at Natasha who is leaned up against the wall at the back of the aircraft.

She dodges the berry and narrows her eyes at him for a moment, but puts on her mask. She will never give him the satisfaction of knowing that he is annoying her. She turned her attention back to her tablet and continues reading.

"Whatever it is, it put the town's entire police department in the hospital. A 17-year-old boy died," Bruce informs them and he shakes his head. He is tired of watching people get hurt; tired of hearing about innocent deaths.

"Point is, we need to be cautious," Steve says firmly, sliding a hand into a glove and putting the strap in place. "We don't know what we're dealing with."

"How do we defend ourselves against something we can't see?" Tony asks, half-serious.

Natasha's lip twitches into a smirk as she places another gun into the holster around her waist. "If you use your ears, you don't need to see," she mutters in the condescending tone she likes to use on the billionaire.

"Not all of us are trained assassins, Mata Hari," Tony retorts.

Natasha sends the billionaire an icy glare, cocking an eyebrow.

"She'll get you for that." Clint chuckles and places his arrows in his quiver. No one knows Natasha as well as he does, but they all know how ruthless she can be if provoked.

"Alright, we're about to land. Suit up," Steve orders as Clint begins their descent into this once peaceful town.

They land, and all except for Bruce meet with law enforcement officers that have been brought in from surrounding areas.

Bruce feels it will be better if he stays inside until they need him.

The woman in charge, Miranda Klein, leeds them to the woods at the edge of the town and explains that the unknown being has been chased into the forest. They are also informed of all the new and pertinent information regard the "Ajih"—the creature can create force fields and become completely invisible. With the thin layer of snow on the forest ground, it makes it easy to track its movement.

"No one saw what it really looks like. The only description I have is that it was wearing a... 'brown work coat and black ripped combat boots'," Klein tells them.

"It's human?" Natasha asks.

"No, it's a demon," a male deputy snarls, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I know the couple that own that corner store. Their son used to play with my boy."

This situation is literally too close to home for a lot of the law enforcement personal that have come to help. The Avengers are used to coming in and dealing with a problem and leaving; after New York and Sokovia they could walk away, but here, in Cordova, they see how much this is affecting the locals. It's hard to ignore the impact this situation has on them.

"I would come with you, but I can't afford to sacrifice any more of my men," Klein says before letting them wander further into the forest, following a trail of light footprints in the snow.

They come to a clearing in the woods where a small pool of water lay in the ground.

"It looks like the tracks stop at the edge of the water," Tony says into his intercom before flying over the pond. "It doesn't continue on the other side."

Steve looks at him as he lands next to the team, confused. "Where did it go?" he asks.

"Could've flown away," Tony suggests, as he kicks off the ground to scan the trees for any sign of the creature.

"No, it's in the water," Natasha stats calmly. She cautiously pulls out her gun and points it ahead of her.

"You've got to be kidding, right?" Tony laughs dryly. "It's below zero." How could anything handle swimming in frigid waters, let alone stand still in it?

She sets off a warning shot into the edge of the pond and watches the waves ripple across to the other side. Something in the water catches her eye.

She turned to her partner, giving him a curious look.

"There," Barton nods as he lifts an arrow, pointing it at the invisible figure.

Startled, Steve pulls his shield off his back and Tony lifts his metal-clad hands, preparing himself for a fight.

"Alright Harry Potter, time to take off your magic cloak," Stark yells across the water. The water is calm again which meant one of two things, that the Ajih wasn't moving or that they lost it.

They wait silently, but to no avail.

"Spread out around the water," Steve orders. If they can't see it, they will have to surround it so it won't have the chance to escape.

However, before they can get in position, something splashes. The creature is sprinting through the water towards the shore.

Tony sends a blast in its direction but it was too quick, and it lifts a force field before the shot can reach it. A light crystalline white colored shield hovered around the Ajih. Tony shoots again, but the blast cannot penetrate the field.

The creature keeps moving.

Steve stops. "Banner?" he yells into his comm.

"What's happening?" he is quick to answer. Being left in the Quinjet makes him anxious, but being out in the field makes him terrified, so he waits and tries to stay calm.

"We need some help; it's heading back towards the town. Let the sheriff know."

At this point, Tony has flown ahead of the mysterious being and cut it off. Natasha throws a taser orb at the force field in an attempt to disable it, and for a moment it seems to work. The field weakened and Tony sets off another blast before the creature can react but misses by an inch.

Clint fires arrows at the Ajih to keep it from regenerating another force field. Steve throws his shield into the mix, hitting the invisible figure, and sending it flying into the ground and sliding through the snow.

Unfazed, it quickly springs back up and begins to fight by throwing glowing circular orbs of energy at Tony and Steve.

Then everything goes quiet. The ground was well trampled now, making it hard for them to see where it was.

Suddenly, there is a swift knock to Natasha's leg and she is close lined. She hits the grounds with a thud.

"I thought you could hear, Romanoff?" Stark can't help but chuckle as he fires another blast, once again missing the shot.

"I'm still better than you!" she retorts, brushing snow off the sides of her thighs. Now she is pissed.

"Both of you need to focus," Steve tells them, but the truth is that they don't know what to do when they can't see what they were aiming at. They may be talented warriors but no one can aim blindfolded.

The creature takes shot after shot from the Avengers and it doesn't let up.

The sound of snapping twigs comes from behind them. They turn just as a small branch brakes off a small pine tree. Tony fires another blast in the direction of the fallen branch, this time hitting the invisible spector. There is a flicker and for a moment and he see a pale figure, but it becomes invisible again before he can get a good look.

Before Clint loses complete sight of it, he shoots an arrow and hit the figure in the back. If they can't follow the creature, they can at least follow the arrow.

The Ajih rips the arrow from its back and lets out a loud high pitch scream. Realizing it can't win, it runs, leaving a trail of blood in the snow.

They are almost in the town now, and everyone is racing around to make sure that the creature will be stopped before it hurt anyone else.

The four Avengers surround the creature.

"There is no way out," Steve says firmly. None of them are sure if this thing can speak English, but it is worth a shot.

Blood pools on the ground and law enforcement officers are starting to gather at the clearing with Bruce Banner standing close by.

Without a response from the Ajih, they all fire at the same time. They don't want to risk it getting any closer to the town.

The creature hits the ground and slowly, begins to fade back into view.

The Avengers are shocked, to say the least. Nothing could prepared the team for what lays before them now.

A pale young girl, no more than 15-years-old with long, brown hair, lays face down in the snow. She is short, extremely thin and covered in bruises and open wounds. Blood is pooling around her limp naked body as it flickers from invisible to visible.

"Jesus," Steve mutters as he looks away.

"Please tell me we didn't just kill this kid," Clint says, wide eyes locking with Natasha's.

Natasha calls for a medic's help.

Bruce comes running right away, his eyes widening as he approaches the flickering figure. The pool of blood increases by the second.

Unlike Steve, Bruce is not fazed by the fact that the young girl is unclothed. He is a gentleman but he is also a doctor and in this moment, he is only focused on helping her even though he is not sure she deserves it. He takes a moment to assess the situation before stepping in and taking charge. All he has with him is a small first aid kit and a foil thermal blanket. He opens the blanket and throws it over her body.

"Remind me why we're helping this thing," he says as he stares down at his watch, trying to count the slow beats of her carotid pulse. Once he finds it he glances up at their captain as if asking what they should do next. If they don't move her soon she will die.

Before Bruce can say another word, Steve bends down and scoops the limp child into his arms. Something about her makes him feel sorry. She is as light as air and as pale as the layer of snow on the ground. His eyes are locked on her soft-featured face; she looks peaceful as she lays passed out in his arms.

The rest of his team follows quickly behind. He cradles the girl into his chest as he pushes his way through the sheriffs and deputies. The air feels thick with emotion. Sad for the tragedy this town has endured and anger for how the perpetrator is now being treated with kindness.

The Sheriff in charge steps forward. "We can take it from here Captain," she says firmly. She wants to see this monster die. How does a robbery turn to this much chaos?

"With all due respect Ma'am, she will die if you don't let us help her," Steve says.

"That is not our problem. A young boy died," She leverages, through gritted teeth.

"Lady this is not an eye for an eye situation," Stark says as he rolls his eyes. He doesn't necessarily agree with helping this child but he is not going to question Steve's motive right now.

"If you'd excuse us, she needs a doctor so we are leaving," the redheaded assassin announces. Natasha is the first to push through the crowd of people gawking at the horrifying scene.

The sheriff looks at them and Clint shrugs before following his partner toward the Quinjet with the rest of them trailing behind him.

* * *

Once in the aircraft, Steve places the girl down on the medical bed in the back and straps her in place for the ride. Bruce steps in, flying like a bullet to place an oxygen mask on the girl's face, turns on the electrocardiogram screen and connects electrodes to the girl's chest to monitor her heart rate. He stops to judge the machine. It starts to beep at an alarming rate.

"I'm losing her," he yells, causing everyone to kick into hyper-drive.

"What can I do?" Tony asks. He has limited knowledge of the human body but it is enough to lend a hand.

Bruce's mind is racing; he isn't used to this kind of pressure. In this moment, he is a doctor without nurses or a surgical team. He needs more than just Tony, but right now he will have to do.

"Put pressure on the wound in her shoulder," he instructs as he hands Tony a pair of surgical gloves.

"It's a good thing I like playing God," Tony jokes, trying to lighten the mood as he firmly hold a laparotomy pad over the open wood. It is not perfect but it will do for the time being.

Bruce is whispering curses to himself as he searches through a drawer for a specific needle. Once he finds it, he inserts an open-ended needle into her chest. Her lung was collapsed and she was not breathing but now the girl's heart rate and pulse-ox regulated.

Natasha stands with her back leaned up against the wall, watching intently as the doctor moves around the table. There is something about the fear in his eyes that makes her feel helpless. No one else is qualified to help in this situation. Maybe they need doctors with them on missions. It would have helped in New York and when Natasha and Steve infiltrated the Lemurian Star platform in the Indian ocean. None of them needed immediate medical assistance but what if they had and no one had been there. Natasha has been in too many situations that brought her close to death in the past.

"Welcome back, Kid," Tony says with a smile when he notices the girl's eyes fluttering open.

Bruce let out a sigh of relief knowing that he has done his job. Good thing Cap had convinced him to tag along. He starts taking off his gloves when the little girl starts to hyperventilate. He looks up at the machine and notices that the girl is panicking.

Natasha steps forward and reaches for the girl's hand. She squeezes it.

"You're okay now," she says softly; her voice is as soothing and comforting as she can make it. She imagines how confusing it must be to wake up in a plane, strapped to a bed, surrounded by the people that were trying to kill her less than an hour ago. A selfish part of Natasha wants to keep the girl calm so that she won't try to hurt them and a selfless part of her wants this young girl to feel safe. She looks exhausted; like she has not slept well in years.

Natasha cautiously reaches up and runs her hand over the girl's hair. This was something that Clint's daughter finds comforting when she is upset.

Slowly the girl regains a steady breathing rate.

"Natasha, watch her while I call Helen to let her know we're coming," Bruce says with a gentle smile as he steps away from the table. It is not often that Natasha let herself show affection towards others but when she does, her kindness warms his heart. She deserves to have someone that she can love and who can love her back. He had the chance to be that someone; unfortunately that time has passed between them and he is regretful of letting her slip away. She has a good heart even if it isn't always in the right place.

Steve is up front with Clint watching the sky as they soared toward New York. He notices Bruce approaching and turns to face the Doctor and nods.

"How is she?" he asks. It is a small plane and Steve already knows the answer but he feels it would be good to get an update. He likes to feel in charge and for the past few minutes, he has not.

"She's stable for now," Bruce answers as he wipes the beads of sweat off his forehead with a hand towel. "Please don't ask me to do that again anytime soon."

Clint chuckles at the doctor's comment. "Have you reached your quota for stress this month?"

"You could say that," he replies jokingly, though he really does not want to do it again anytime soon.

"Do you think anyone is looking for her? You know, maybe her family.." Clint trails off. He hates to think that she is all alone in the world.

"My guess is no. She's incredibly malnourished; no one has taken care of her in a long time," Bruce remarks. Her pale yellow tinted skin and her frail skeleton like body is significantly noticeable.

Hawkeye presses a few buttons on the control panel in front of him before he turns away from the scenery and the sky. He glances back to young girl and smiles as he watches Natasha running her fingers through the child's hair in an effort to comfort her. For the first time since they had left Alaska, he feels sorry for this girl.

Clint turns back to piloting the aircraft.

"How old would you say she is Doc?" Steve asks. To him, she looks so tiny when he was carrying her out of the woods. It was like lifting a feather.

Bruce takes a moment to reply. "Hard to say for sure but my guess is 12-16 years of age. I'll run tests once we're back."

"Cap?" Clint questiones.

Steve turns and nods giving Clint the go-ahead.

Clint hesitates for a moment before he speaks. "How do we know she's not going to start attacking again."

"We don't. But I don't think she meant to hurt anyone. You saw how scared she was," Steve says with a sad look on his face. He doesn't want to defend the girl's actions but he can't make sense of what had happened. He also can't say that he isn't thinking the same thing as Clint.

"Are you saying that she did this out of self defence?" Clint retorts with surprise.

"I don't know why she did it but I think there is a lot more to this that me think." Steve explains.

"That is exactly why this doesn't feel like a good idea." Clint feels discomfort in the bottom of his stomach. He can tell that something bad is going to happen.

"How far are we from compound?" Bruce asks, leaning over Clint's pilot chair.

"We're about 30 minutes out," Clint replies. He flicks a few more switches, presses a couple of buttons on the control panels and scans the green colored screen that shows their flight path. He turns to face Bruce. "This thing moves fast but it's not light speed."

"No that's okay. She'll make it" Bruce assures them.

As if on cue, the alarms go off on the machines monitoring the girl.

* * *

 **Please let me know what you thought of the first chapter and stay tuned for more!**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

The five Avengers met up in the living room of their compound. Dark hardwood floors flow through the large, open concept room that is furnished with red leather sofas, lounge chairs and black decorative pillows. There is a large blue rug with a small coffee table in the middle of the room. A few small plants are dotted around for decoration. It is nicely decorated but not very homely. The living room opens onto a large communal kitchen which they mostly use individually. They rarely eat meals together due to their hectic schedules.

Aside from Steve and Tony, most of them only visit in the compound when needed. There stays are temporary. For Natasha it is a place to crash between missions, Bruce only stops by when he feels it is time to visit or if Tony needs help with an experiment, and Clint is only there when Natasha is. He has a wife to love and kids to raise; his days of Avenging have been put to rest, except for when the world is ending or situations like this when he needs a little excitement. Right now, he is hoping for a little less excitement.

They have changed out of their suits and into more comfortable clothing. Steve, Clint and Tony are all in blue jeans and plain coloured t-shirts and Bruce is wearing a button up shirt and khakis.

Natasha is wearing black jeans and an army green shirt with a swooping neckline.

They sit in silence, the tension in the room palpable.

"Is anyone going to address the elephant in the room or are we all going to sit in silence?" Tony finally cuts into the silence. He has been holding in his thoughts for too long, and he's never been one for silence. It allows him to immerse himself in his thoughts and there is nothing worse than the tricks his mind can play on him.

No one answers.

Bruce is watching Natasha intently.

She is hunched forward with her elbows resting on her knees, and a cup of coffee in her hands. She is tracing the rim of the mug with her fingertips as she gazes blankly into the distance.

He wonders what she was thinking about; she hasn't been acting like herself since they left Alaska.

Natasha shifts uncomfortably when she feels Dr. Banners eyes on her. He doesn't get to look at her like that anymore. She sends a glare in his direction and places her coffee on the table, before crossing her arms and leaning back into the couch.

She was having a hard time wrapping her mind around this girl. It isn't how frail she looked or even her abilities that were confusing her, it is how she fought. The young girl had the element of surprise on her side but no kid her age would know how to fight and shoot like she can. One thought was bouncing around in Natasha's head: who trained her?

"I'm sorry, should I speak up? Again?" Tony asks, part sternly and part sarcastically, and bit louder than he had intended. He is pissed that his compound was being used to house a fugitive. He doesn't want her there, even if it was the only option at the time. "She's not staying here."

Clint sighs as he shakes his head. "Tony..." he trails off, slightly begging.

After the incident with Ultron in Sokovia, even after Loki in New York, Tony was aware of how much damage they created. Greater good or not, he was having a hard time justifying putting on his suit these days.

"As soon as she recovers, she's gone," Tony attempts to reason. He's not a complete asshole, after all.

"I'm all for not protecting a criminal but where the hell is she going to go?" Clint asks. Unlike the billionaire, Clint has decided that the best place for this mysterious girl to be was in the compound. It was located far away from civilization so she wouldn't be able to hurt anyone else, and they'd be able to control her and monitor her easily in the compound, too.

"I'll have Rhodey call in a favor with his military friends," Tony suggests, eyes locked on his phone.

Steve had stayed quiet, trying to assess the situation in his Captain manner. However, Tony was being Tony, so he spoke up. "You're going to have her locked up in a cage for the rest of her life?" he asks.

"Yeah, pretty much," Tony said matter-of-factly, flashing the group a tight smile.

"She's 14, Tony," Bruce points out. Despite working with the man for years, he still couldn't believe his arrogance. "Have some compassion."

Tony slides his phone back into his pocket, eyeing the super-soldier and scientist. "I'm not running a charity here," he affirms. "We can't go around inviting every enhanced kid to join the family. She needs to face the consequences of her actions and she sure as hell won't be doing that here."

"What happened to this not being an eye for an eye?" Steve reminds the man.

"I don't want my name associated with more death," Tony stats argumentatively. He was starting to feel like this was becoming more than another squabble. Just like with Ultron.

He looks at Natasha, who hasn't said a word. She'd usually take any opportunity to fight with Tony.

"So this is political?" she asks, shaking herself out of her thoughts.

"After Ultron, I have to be careful and—" Tony begins to explain, but was cut off by a loud bang.

Natasha had slams her fist down on the coffee table, finally letting her emotions get the better of her.

"Give her a chance, Stark," she hisses, rising from her seat. With fire in her eyes, Natasha takes a step towards Tony, ensuring that they were standing less than a foot apart. He stands his ground, but she is not letting up.

"Natasha, you need to cool it," Clint warns, moving to step between them.

Natasha lets out an exasperated breath and turns to her friend. They'd known each other long enough for Clint to tell that her actions were not being fueled by rage alone. Their eyes lock and he sees the sadness lying deep beneath her emerald orbs.

"She deserves a chance," Natasha says softly, almost pleading for him to take her side.

"And why is that?" Clint asks. "Why does she deserve anything?"

"Because I've hurt more people than she has and you still gave me the benefit of doubt," Natasha admits before she storms off.

Bruce stands up, ready to follow her, but Clint is quick to push him back into his seat. Natasha needed time to cool off.

On her way down the hall, she brushes past Pepper who is on her way to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. Pepper greets her kindly and smiles but Natasha keeps her head down.

Pepper is mildly offended but shakes it of and continues down the hall.

Pepper strolls into the main living area where she find the four men crowded around the coffee table, strangely silent.

"What's her problem?" She chuckles lightly with a shake to her head.

* * *

Natasha takes a moment to compose herself before entering the lab where the young girl was left to recover after her surgery.

Helen Cho is still running tests on the girl when she walks in. They share a smile and make polite conversation about how the girl is doing. Helen explains her injuries: three broken ribs, a punctured lung, and a mild concussion. She has several open wounds and burns due to Tony's blasts and Clint's arrows which Helen has patched up using her cradle, the same one they used on Clint. The girl is being closely monitored but is expected to be back to normal in a few weeks.

Natasha fills a glass with water and continues towards the recovery room at the back. It is in the corner of the lab and has one-way mirror walls, allowing anyone to see in but the patient is undisturbed to the world around them. There is a chair, a side table, a hospital bed and many machines to monitor vitals in the room.

As she gets closer, Natasha notices the young girl is handcuffed to the bed and bound at her ankles by belt-like restraints. She is staring at the ceiling blankly, the only indicator that she is alive being her teeth digging into her lower lip. Her dark hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail and she is dressed in a blue hospital gown.

Natasha presses her fingers against a monitor and the door to the room slides open. The swishing sound startles the young girl. Her body flickers for a second but quickly normalizes when she settles.

"Would you like some water?" Natasha asks, putting on her best mask. She is unsure if the girl recognizes her from their fight in Alaska or in the Quinjet on the way back.

She steps closer to the bed and holds out the glass of water for her take. The girl flinches and tries to pull away, but her handcuff are holding her tightly in place.

"I'm not here to hurt you," she says gently, stepping a little closer. She places the cup of water on the side table, within the girl's reach.

The girl looks at her with unsure eyes but says nothing.

"Would you like me to take off your handcuffs?" Natasha offers in an effort to build a rapport with the child. No, not child, teenager. A small teenager, sure, but still a teenager.

The girl stays silent.

"Can you tell me your name?" Natasha tries as she begins undoing the cuff on her right hand. She moves around the bed and undoes each one. Once she was finished, she quietly takes a seat at the foot of the bed. "I'm Natasha" she says simply.

The girl remains silent still.

Natasha starts to wonder if she speaks English. "Do you understand me?"

With almost a grimace on her face - like hesitation but not quite - the young girl nods.

Natasha gives a small smile. "I'll come back when you're ready to talk." She stands up and turns, ready to leave.

The door slid open and Natasha is about to walk out when she hear the girl murmur something.

Natasha cranes her head. "What?" she questions, stepping back in the room.

"Aly," she whispers shakily. She winces as she tries to pull her knees up to her chest. "My name is Aly."

"Are you in pain?" Natasha asks, finding her spot at the end of the bed again.

Aly looks at her and nods slowly. She reaches for the cup of water, fingers twitching like she is ready to be berated. Maybe even punished.

"I know the feeling," Natasha says lightly, lifting the bottom of her shirt to reveal her golf ball sized scar. The one given to her by the Winter Soldier.

Aly looks away quickly when she see the mark. She continues to sip on her water. Like with everything else, she is painfully hesitant.

"You hurt a lot of people," Natasha says carefully. Although Natasha doesn't agree with Tony's plan, she knows that the girl needs to come to terms with what she has done. She doesn't seem like the kind of person to kill anyone without a reason, but this situation is not making a lot of sense.

"What do you mean?" Aly shoots back, her expression filled with confusion. She has no idea what Natasha is talking about.

Until now, no one has spoken to her since she woke up.

Natasha scoots a little closer, and places a warm, comforting hand on Aly's shin.

"You don't remember?" Natasha presses gently.

"No... What did I do?" she whispers with wide eyes, lined with unshed tears.

Natasha pulls her hand away as the monitors connected to Aly start the beep.

Aly's heart rate is increasing.

"I didn't… I didn't mean to hurt them." she mumbles, her voice shaking. Tears stream down Aly's pale cheeks as guilt washes over her. She hugs her legs despite the discomfort in her chest and she begins to shake.

Helen and a nurse come rushing into the room to check on their patient and a nurse escort Natasha out.

In the lab, Natasha is greeted by a worried Clint.

"How is she?" he asks.

Natasha shakes her head and lets out a breath. "She doesn't remember any of it, Clint."

Clint is not sure how to react. Until this point he was convinced that the little girl was the demon the Alaskan town's people had made her out to be. Learning that she was simply a scared kid made him feel slightly ashamed.

They both watch through the one-way mirror as Helen injects the girl with some sort of relaxant. The girl instantly calms down and her eyes flutter shut. The nurse walks around the bed to refasten all the restraints.

Natasha's stomach turns. Seeing the girl being bound like an animal disgusts her.

"She's not going to get over this easily," Natasha continues. She folds her arms across her chest and bows her head.

"Tony agreed to let her stay for now," Clint informs her, placing a hand on her lower back. He hates how personally invested she has already become. Aly's stay at the compound is only be temporary so he doesn't want her to get too attached.

Natasha turns and furrows her brow. "For now?" she repeats quizzically as she starts towards the door.

"It's better than nothing," he reminds her with a shrug.

They are the perfect partners, Natasha and Clint. Their relationship is a balancing act and they keep one another in check. Natasha is headstrong and tenacious when it came to something she is passionate about, and although Clint doesn't always understand her decisions, he is there to support her, as well as keep her grounded. She does the same for him.

"What changed his mind?" she asks as they step into the hallway.

"What do you think? He's a narcissist with a thing for headstrong redheads." Clint chuckles. He loves teasing her.

Natasha wrinkles her nose in disgust as a shiver run up her spine.

"Pepper smacked some sense into him after you left," he mentions.

Natasha releases a sardonic laugh. "I like her tactics."

"She's getting a room ready for the kid," he says.

Natasha pulls the keys to her corvette from her pocket. "I'm going to head into the city for a bit. She's going to need new clothes."

"Want some company?" he offers.

"I think I need some time by myself," she says, giving her partner a reassuring smile.

"Are you sure? I'm not big on shopping but I know a thing or two about shopping for little girls."

"There's a 9 year difference between Lila and Aly," she reminds him.

"My daughter will always wear pink dresses and sparkly headbands, even when she's 30," Clint solemnly swears. "I'm not letting her become some kind of edgy punk kid."

"Good luck with that," Natasha laughs, and they part ways.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you to o0aurora0o and leahloahla for being a great betas. Let me know what you think so far, I'm looking for some constructive criticism so I can learn how to write better! Stay tuned and stay classy marvel fans.


	4. Chapter 3

In the dim, amber glow of the setting sun, Natasha drives down the highway that leads to New York City. She speeds down the never-ending stretch of road, shifting gears as she merges in and out of the left lane. Natasha is known for having a heavy foot and often surpasses speed limits, but nonetheless, she is a safe driver.

Right now however, she is fighting to keep herself focused on the road instead of on the aches in her body and the throbbing in her head. It is a long drive to be taking this late in the day, but she needs to clear her mind. She is overcome by thoughts of her past in the Red Room, and all the people she hurt there.

The red in her ledger is something she can't put behind her no matter how hard she tires to right her wrongs. The guilt weighs her down, and she knows she will never be completely free of it.

Her thoughts drift back to Aly as she changes lanes again.

The fear Natasha sees in the young girl's eyes haunt her. It reminds her of other girls she met in the Red Room. When Natasha was young, she put up a front that was cold as ice and tough as stone, but some girls made no attempt to hide their trepidation. That's why they didn't make it out alive and she did. It was why the people in charge liked Natasha, in their own twisted way. In the Red Room, a flame lit inside her when she fought for her life. It made her strong when she needed to be. It's what makes her a worthy Avenger.

That flame isn't a quality Natasha sees in Aly. She doesn't know what drives her to keep trying and it is eating her up inside. It doesn't make sense. The teenager fights like she is trained and she wields unbelievable strength, but she is timid. She lacks confidence.

Without much thought, Natasha's mind drifts to how she can help the young girl. Now that she can see what Aly is, she feels like she is more transparent. Still, the girl is a complete mystery.

A loud ambulance siren snaps her out of her whirling mind. She looks around and does a double-take at the skyscrapers surrounding her and the people crossing roads around her. A panhandling elderly woman approach Natasha's corvette and knocked on the tinted passenger window. Natasha checks to make sure the doors were all locked.

The homeless woman jumps, startled, as a loud honking sounds. She backs away from the car, not before she fires a few choice curses at the impatient driver.

The car honks once again and Natasha realizes that the sound was coming from the car directly behind her. She glances up and noticed that the light has changed and that the cars ahead of her are long gone. The hustle and bustle of New York is not a safe place for distracted drivers.

"Yeah yeah, I got it," she mutters. She looks into her rearview mirror and glares at the guy behind her before speeding forward down the street. She needs to focus on getting what she needs and out of the city before it gets late.

There is a lot of time to be rattled by her feelings toward Aly as she shops.

* * *

It is nearly midnight when Natasha returns to the compound, and it is quiet. Most of the team is not sleeping, but they tend to rest and relax individually at this time.

Natasha briskly walks into the lab with a gentle smile on her face and an armful of department store bags in tow. Her eyes are fixed on the recovery area where Aly resides.

The mysterious girl has only been with them for a short period of time, but Natasha feels some familiarity with the girL She sees parts of her younger self in Aly, back when the Red Room was in control her every move. She never felt remorse when she was a young assassin. It wasn't an option then, but now it is a different story. She puts on a mask to hide her pain during the day and when it gets dark, she faces the sinful nightmare of a past.

A figure catches Natasha attention. She focuses in on Bruce who is leaning over one of the lab tables, studying a row of test tubes. Natasha slows her stride so she doesn't startle him, mentally cursing herself for forgetting that the scientist stays in his lab all hours of the night, like how Tony spent more time in his workshop than he does anywhere else.

Natasha is not a religious woman, but she prays he won't try to stop her.

Her prayer go unheard, however.

"What are those?" he asks, gesturing to the bags.

"Some clothing for Aly," she replies breezily, brushing past him to continue through the lab. She tries not to give him the chance to say anything else.

"Don't get too attached," he advises as he turns back to his work. He picks up a test tube and holds it close to his eye before moving his glasses down so he can examine the specimen.

"I am not getting attached…" Natasha stops in her tracks as she begins to defend herself "Am I not allowed to help her?"

"She's not you, Nat," Bruce cuts her off, placing the test tube back in its stand and he turns face her fully. "I know you want her to be, but she's not. You want to help her, to heal her, but you can't because you don't know her. " The words are spoken softly, but it still feels harsh.

It reminds her of their conversation in Clint's farmhouse, when she confessed that she was infertile. Is he referring to that?

She wants to tear him a new one so badly, but now is not the place, nor the time. She composes herself and turned to face him.

He pulls off his glasses and cleans the lenses with the edge of his lab coat, before taking a few reluctant steps towards her. Natasha holds the shopping bags in front of her like a shield. The last thing she ever wants is to end up alone in a room with the doctor and with him standing so close to her.

"I know you don't want to hear this… but she's not like you," Bruce continues, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. His heart is beating rapidly, like the wings of a bat out of hell.

"You should stop talking, Banner," Natasha stats firmly. "What I decide to do is none of your business."

Bruce lets out a deep breath and runs his hand over his face, the usual move he does when he was frustrated.

"God Natasha," he mutters in frustration. "I swear you're more stubborn than Tony sometimes."

"I learned from the best," she retorts, ruder than she had intended.

"How many times do I have to apologize before you can forgive me?" he asks with sad eyes that hold traces of anger in them. He takes a breath to calm himself because he doesn't want to turn green.

"You left," she whispers, chewing on the edge of her lip as she gives a small shrug.

"I know," Bruce replies with a sadness laced tone. His fingers twitch against his side, before reaching up to tuck a loose strand of Natasha's wavy red hair behind her ear. They are only inches apart now.

He holds his hand against her cheek, and she stiffens for a moment before relaxing at the familiar sensation. Natasha lets her jaw rest in his palm; it feels like she is home with him, and that scares her more than anything.

"I let you in and you left me." She holds back the emotion that is threatening to escape through her voice.

The only person able to cut through the Black Widow's web is Clint, but she had allowed Bruce to see her the way she saw herself. She had been vulnerable and he let her down.

"You know I can't control him," he says forlornly.

"It's always the big guy's fault, right?" She lets a scornful, breathy laugh escape through gritted teeth, her lower lip begins to tremble uncharacteristically.

Bruce gently lifts her chin with the side of his index finger and looked deeply into her green eyes. "I'm sorry," he breathes. He will repeat it a million times if that is what it will take to show her that he still cares.

Natasha brakes eye contact and shifts away from him. Bruce's hand hangs emptily in the air for a moment, and then he lets it fall limply to his side.

"I need to get these to Aly." She bends down and picks up the bags that had found their way to the cold cement floor. She reminds herself to breathe as she briskly walks away.

"Be careful, Natasha," Bruce calls to her before she opens to door to Aly's room.

Without bothering to look back, she replies, "I'm always careful."

* * *

The door slides open and Aly's eyes fly open with it. Her head shoots up from her pillow and she hisses from the pain caused by the sudden movement. She rubs her eyes, yawns, and then glances around the room to take in her surroundings. She tries to settle back into the bed without causing any more discomfort.

Natasha walks in with an assortment of different shopping bags from various stores in hand. She drops them at the end of the bed before undoing all of the straps Aly is bound by.

Natasha then too settles in the bedside chair and watches the young girl curiously to see how she reacts to the gifts.

Aly focuses on the bags, making no attempt to touch them.

"Are you going to open them?" Natasha says, crossing her right leg over her left.

"What is it?" Aly asks cautiously. With nimble fingers, she reaches for the smallest bag.

"Clothes," Natasha answers with a half smile, pulling out her phone. She tries not to seem too interested. The last thing she wants is to send the young girl into another episode of panic. "Can't spend the rest of your life in a hospital gown," she adds, almost teasingly.

Aly begins to sift through the bags, slowly pulling out their contents. She examines each individual item carefully then, places them in individual piles on the bed organized by type. The only expression plastered on her face is doubt, mixed with hints of fear.

"I didn't know what size you are," the redhead says. She stands, and finds an empty space on the bed to sit.

"I've never had clothes this nice," Aly admits, helping herself to a pair of brand name jeans. She continues to admire all the shirts, sweaters, pants and other garments.

Once Aly has finishes opening every bag, she leans back against her pillow. She thanks Natasha quietly and waits for a moment, speaking up again when the assassin doesn't.

"Why are you really here?" she asks.

Natasha chuckles at the girl's question and leans forward so she was closer to her, she then places a hand on the bed for support.

"I wanted to make sure you're okay, " Natasha confesses as she reaches out and grasps the young girl's free hand. Aly cautiously accepted it as Natasha rubs her thumb across the top of Aly's hand. A small sympathetic smile creeps onto her face.

Aly eyes the red-haired agent with an unsure expression, though she does not avoid her touch.

"How am I supposed to be okay right now?" She shrugs but immediately regretted it as a sharp pain pierced her shoulder. She wants to scream but she bites her tongue, allowing only a quiet groan to escape her.

"You're not," Natasha says softly in her usual know-it-all tone. "You'll spend the rest of your life trying to make up for this. You have a lot to repent."

"That makes me feel better. Thank you," she mutters sarcastically.

"That's why I'm here," the older woman stats, ignoring the sarcasm in Aly's tone.

Aly pulls her knees up to her chest as she has done before. It is her method of self regulation, but it also sends waves of pain throughout her body. Once again, her body flickers from view as she hisses in pain. She grasps a handful of her blankets and slowly lowers her legs back against the bed.

Her pain has made her absent-minded.

"Don't you have something better to do than watch me struggle?" Aly snaps when she notices Natasha's watchful gaze.

The Russian ignores the hostility in the young girl's voice. Aly has a right to be angry right now.

Natasha sighs as she runs her hand over the clothing and contemplates what to say next.

"By the time I was your age, I had already killed dozens of people. I lied, I cheated and I killed other girls who could have been my friends because I had to," Natasha explains seriously. She usually has a hard time opening up to people she doesn't know but it is easier for her to do knowing that this might help Aly. "I was given direction, I followed through and I killed whoever they told me to kill. It wasn't my choice, but I did it. I had to."

"You always have a choice," Aly argues in a whisper.

"I did what I had to do to survive."

"Why are you telling me this?" the teen asks, sounding both curious and agitated.

"Because I think that you're just trying to survive too," Natasha says in a soothing tone.

"That's not why I killed those people," Aly says quietly, more to reassure herself than Natasha.

Natasha doesn't know how to respond. She searches for the right words but feels lost.

"Don't you understand? I didn't do it," Aly whines, her voice is weak and laced with pain. She wants so badly to be able to stand up. She wants to lift herself from the bed and run away.

"I can't do the things that Dr. Banner told me I did," Aly tells Natasha. Aly knows a lot more than she lets on but isn't ready to unleash her past on these strangers.

"You spoke with Dr. Banner?" Natasha should not be surprised. He is a kind man.

"He's like me. He's not always in control," Aly explains. She quite likes the dorky doctor.

"I'd watch who you compare yourself to." Natasha speaks dryly.

"Then who should I compare myself to?" The teen's expression becomes confused and defensive, her eyes narrowing.

"Just be you." Natasha offers.

"Me? I'm scared. That's it, that's all I am," Aly says as if she has said it a hundred times and she sounds more defensive than she has intended to. She is frustrated and tired. She has never openly admitted this since she had been on the run and she doesn't know if it is a comfort or misery.

"I used to think that being scared was a bad thing, too, but I'm learning that fear means that you still have something to lose."

"Are you scared?" Aly questions curiously.

Natasha hesitates but answers, "All the time."

Natasha feels guilty. Aly is only a child; this whole situation is a lot to take in even if she were an adult. She is stuck in a unfamiliar place with people she doesn't know, and she is clearly not good at adapting. Natasha also knows that there is no place safer for Aly than in the compound, both for her own safety and the safety of others. Come hell or high water, Natasha will not let anything happen to this poor young girl again.

"It's late so I'm going to let you sleep" Natasha says as she stands up. She starts to put the clothing away. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Will you stay a bit longer? Until I'm able to sleep?" she pleads.

Natasha presses her lips into a thin line

as she gazes at the small girl on the bed. She knows that she cannot force Aly to be more comfortable, but when she catches a glimpse of fear in the young girl's eyes, her heart breaks. She looks lost, with a furrow between her brows that makes Natasha's heart clench.

"If that's what you need, of course," Natasha says softly as she moves to sit on the edge of the bed.

Before Natasha settles back down, Aly shifts on her end of the bed, leaving enough space beside her for Natasha. Aly doesn't say anything, just looks between the end of the bed and the empty space beside her. So Natasha moves to sit beside her.

"Is this okay?" Natasha asks as she leans in and wraps her arm around the teen.

Aly rests her head on Natasha's shoulder in response, and it takes a moment but Aly slowly lets her body go limp as she relaxes into Natasha's side. The duo lay in silence, Aly with her eyes closed as she tries to avoid Natasha's worried gaze. She will not be sleeping much tonight, but at least she feels safe.

She feels cared for, for the first time in years.

* * *

And that's Chapter 3! Thank you again to everyone that read, reviewed, favourited or followed this story. I appreciate each and every one of you and hope that you are enjoying this! I want to once again thank my betas leahloahla and o0aurora0o for catching all my mistakes.

Please let me know what you think and stay tuned for another chapter!


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